


got a hole and it burn my chest

by smallredboy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Canon Era, M/M, Minor Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Pining, canon divergence as in lee shot too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 03:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Burr worries a lot. Especially after Laurens - the man he's in love with - gets shot by Lee.





	got a hole and it burn my chest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neonsignsforsale](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neonsignsforsale/gifts).



> a prompt fill from tumblr! i loved writing this very much. burrens is very good. 
> 
> anthony lee medina is laurens' faceclaim. burr's is still leslie.
> 
> title is from "stains" by brockhampton.
> 
> enjoy!

Burr’s breath catches in his throat when both Lee and Laurens shoot at the same time. They both grunt in pain, and his mind is a hurricane as Washington walks into the scene. Lee is clutching his side and Laurens is clutching his stomach, face contorted in pain.   
  
“Mr. Burr, get a medic for the general and for Mr. Laurens!”  
  
“Yes, sir!”  
  
Washington’s words to Lee are drowned out as he gets the two doctors, who take Lee and Laurens separately. He’s a little scared— the gunshots didn’t seem to be fatal; they could easily recover. The fear still lingers, especially for Laurens.   
  
Laurens is very much impulsive, reckless, loud-mouthed. The exact opposite of him. And he’s beautiful, shoulder-length curls and dark brown eyes and airy chuckles. He’s kind of friends with Lee, but in truth, he was his second as nobody else wanted to.   
  
He stays around Lee, pacing nervously. He wants to go see Laurens, wants to see if he’s okay. Lee looks at him with a raised brow as he paces around the tent. There are bandages on his side; they’re soaked with blood, but he stopped bleeding.   
  
“I’ll be alright, Burr,” Lee says as if that’s what’s worrying him.   
  
Burr huffs but doesn’t say anything. Hamilton is most likely fuzzing over Laurens in his tent, taking care of his wound and giving him that lovestruck look he loathes. It makes his skin hot, just thinking about Hamilton and Laurens sharing something similar to what he had with Bellamy. Something similar to what he wants with Laurens himself.   
  
“I’m going out for a second,” he says. It isn’t a lie, but he’s omitting the fact he’s going out to see Laurens.   
  
Lee nods. “Alright.”  
  
Burr walks out and heads to the other tent. He doesn’t hear chatter, or the laugh Laurens always lets out when he talks to Hamilton. Something inside him hurts, aches terribly— is Laurens okay? Is he okay? The mere thought of losing him, even though he’s not his and never will be, makes him feel like he’s going to throw up. 

“Am I too late?” he asks, voice quivering as he walks inside. Laurens’ torso is covered by the sheets, but he notices the bump of bandages on his stomach. He lets out a sigh full of relief.   
  
Laurens opens his eyes after a few minutes. He seems tired out of his mind. As he walks towards him, he grimaces, and so Burr steps back. “Burr?” Laurens squints. “What are you doing here?”  
  
Burr gulps. “Wanted to see how you were holding up.”  
  
Laurens huffs and glances up at him. For a moment Burr feels terribly exposed— as if Laurens can read every single one of his thoughts. As if he can tell how badly he wants to just lean down and have his mouth on his.   
  
After a few seconds of silence, he says, “Why?”  
  
“I can be Lee’s second and still care about you, Laurens.”  
  
Laurens squints and doesn’t say anything. He lays his head back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling of the tent. “How’s Lee holding up?” he asks, not looking back at him.   
  
“Better than you,” Burr replies.   
  
Laurens lets out a quiet chuckle. It turns Burr’s insides out, makes him warm all over. God, he hates this feeling so much. “Yeah, ‘cause I shot him in the side.”   
  
Burr stays quiet, taps his fingers along his waistcoat. “Where’s Hamilton?”  
  
Laurens grimaces a little at the mention of his best friend— lover— whatever he is. “He was sent back home.”  
  
Burr raises a brow. “And you weren’t?”  
  
“He was specifically ordered to not duel Lee.” Laurens sighs and runs a hand through his curls. “I wasn’t. And I think he has some family business to attend to, as well.”  
  
Burr hums at that, thinking about Laurens’ words. “He married Elizabeth Schuyler well over a year ago. Probably a child.”  
  
Laurens bit the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, it’s probably that.”  
  
Burr has noticed how Laurens has never mentioned a wife, mentioned any woman in his life. He wonders if he doesn’t want to have one— if he’s dedicated to the war, to his abolitionist views, to his love for men. Or maybe he has one he isn’t happy with.  
  
They stay there in silence, and Burr grows closer to him. He wraps his hand around Laurens’. Laurens looks up, blinking at him. Burr nods, and the other man cocks his head, an almost unnoticeable smile appearing on his lips.   
  
“Will you be fit for battle any time soon?”  
  
Laurens doubts. Burr squeezes his hand, and he almost pretends he didn’t do that.“Probably. If I go to battle, I’m going to get injured again. But it’s what I’m good at.”  
  
Burr chuckles softly at that. “You’re reckless.”  
  
Laurens looks at him, a faint blush settling on his cheeks. “I am, Burr.”  
  
Burr can’t bring himself to say anything that will hint at his case. Just looking at Laurens makes his heart hurt, makes his guts twist, makes him dream of a perfect future where they run away from the responsibilities in their shoulders.   
  
“I’ll… get going,” he says, voice stuck in the back of his throat.   
  
Laurens offers him a kind smile he wishes he could trap with his lips. “See you around, Burr.”  
  
Burr makes a choked noise as he gets out of the tent. The sun scorches down his back, and he hates his situation. Hates that he feels all this again— Bellamy already had given him these sensations, and he’d lost him, and he’s here again. This time with John Laurens, a reckless, impulsive abolitionist who makes his head spin.   
  
As he walks into Lee’s tent, he lets out a shaky breath. He’s glad Lee’s asleep— he couldn’t deal with questioning.   
  
He sits on the ground, starting to lay down after a while. He thinks about Laurens, about Hamilton, about Lee, and falls asleep relatively quickly.   
  
He dreams of chapped, war-ridden lips, black curls, and an adventurous smile. 


End file.
